Reborn in the Entertainment Industry: Second Life

"Oh, am I cursed?"

Bo Bing originally just went there to freeload a meal, but unexpectedly ran into trouble again.

When did my neighborhood become an accident hotspot?

He doesn't understand either.

[The host is overthinking it; perhaps it's just a coincidence?]

Alpha, always eager for a good show, managed to detect a hint of schadenfreude in its cold, formulaic mechanical tone, even though it sounded like a machine.

It's just a matter of slightly higher probability.

Bo Bing held her forehead.

Bo Yuntian was a little nervous.

We're very close to Li Feng's house now. Go around the alley in front, then walk across the two streets behind the alley that are close to the riverbank, and you'll reach Li Feng's house.

But at that very moment, as night had fallen, shouts and shoving erupted from the alleyway.

Swearing.

The extremely rustic dialect, mixed with vulgar and offensive language, could be heard, along with pleas for mercy and shouts of abuse.

There were even sounds of machinery hitting the wall.

It's definitely something like an iron rod, Bo Bing thought.

The metal objects kept striking the cement wall, as if threatening, wiping away a shrill noise.

This is a small town in the Northwest, and it doesn't have the modern facilities of the Southeast. Even the surveillance cameras are mainly set up in places with a lot of people and vehicles.

This is especially true in small towns like these, where unreformed old town areas are like this: young people who drop out of school early take pride in forming gangs, acknowledging big brothers, becoming thugs, collecting protection money, and even making bizarre videos to show off their "social status."

The area around the school is unstable, with idle thugs roaming the streets, taking pleasure in bullying students.

Most of the students here are children of workers and peasants, and few of them come from wealthy or powerful families. So, once a thug sets his sights on them, they can't escape. For students who aren't particularly assertive, there's no other option but to pay protection money.

Darkness will never thrive in the bright sunlight.

Bo Yuntian hesitated for a moment, then prepared to leave the area with Bo Bing before taking out his phone to call the police.

Unfortunately, the sound of their footsteps clashed in this quiet place.

Someone inside spotted Bo Yuntian and called out first.

"Stop right there, you father! Who told you to run away?"

A young man with dyed yellow hair came out carrying a stick, shaking his head, the iron rod in his hand almost pointing at Bo Bing's nose.

Bo Yuntian wanted Bo Bing to run first, but Bo Bing's feet didn't budge.

Now he could see clearly that there were two students who had been beaten and were kneeling on the ground, unable to lift their heads, and they were still wearing school uniforms—the same school uniforms as Bo Yuntian.

Bo Bing's pupils constricted slightly.

There were six people inside, five of whom were armed.

They all use batons, a common weapon among young people in society, perhaps because they are convenient or because they are "popular".

But Bo Bing was not intimidated.

Whether or not there's a system, I'm not afraid to deal with a few weaklings.

"Xiaoyun, call the police."

Bo Bing lowered her gaze and gestured for Bo Yuntian to step back.

Huang Mao was used to bullying others, and this was the first time he had ever seen someone not take him seriously. He gritted his teeth and swung his stick at Bo Bing's leg.

These thugs, though they cause trouble, still don't dare to directly attack someone's head—to put it bluntly, they are the fish that slipped through the net of education, and they do the lowest level of "gangster" work. They can bully honest kids, but if they happen to kill someone, they'll be stuck in jail for life.

After all, most of these low-level thugs in society are from poor families.

In case of a serious accident, even emptying your pockets won't cover the exorbitant medical bills.

The consensus among all petty thugs is that when hitting someone, try to hit their limbs and feet. If you're really angry, kick them in the stomach and back. Slapping is okay, but you can't use metal objects to hit their head.

It sounds pitiful, pathetic, and despicable.

The blond-haired man didn't hold back; most people would probably kneel down on the spot after being hit by his baton.

But the person he encountered was no ordinary person.

obviously.

Bo Bing knew he wouldn't dare to hit someone directly on the head.

[Disarm] is triggered passively.

So many years have passed, and this ridiculous rule is still in effect. He scoffed, grabbed the other person's weapon with his left hand, raised his right hand, and slapped the other person across the face.

It's a traditional skill.

[Boxer] Activated.

[Powerful] Start-up.

Bo Bing's slap, a basic attack, resulted in a critical hit and a stun effect.

The thug's eyes rolled back immediately, and he collapsed at Bo Bing's feet.

"Who do you belong to?"

The five people inside looked at each other, wondering if they had never seen this person before.

Who is this guy?

Slap someone so hard they pass out without a sound—even Cao Xin, one of the henchmen of Boss Zhi in the New District nightclubs, couldn't do that, could he?

"Who am I?" Bo Bing bent down to pick up the other person's baton, stepped over the person on the ground and walked into the alley. The dim light source became his overhead light, making him emit a faint yellowish halo.

"I am Guanyin Bodhisattva, who saves people from suffering."

His icy voice echoed through the alley, like a vengeful ghost coming to claim a life in the middle of the night.

The thug suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

"Damn it, I'll skin you alive!"

Two thugs, hurling insults, surrounded the young man from the left and right.

too fast.

No one could clearly see how the thin ice moved.

One person was slammed against the wall with one hand, his face bruised and swollen, and he passed out.

Another person was thrown into the air, fell to the ground, rolled twice, and landed at the feet of the remaining three people, whereupon they stopped moving.

We've run into a tough opponent.

These three are the most capable fighters. Of the remaining three in the small team, two are strategists and one is the leader.

Bo Bing remembered clearly that it was this guy who kicked the student.

"What are you trying to do? The eastern part of the city and the new district are both our territory. Let me tell you, I'm under the command of Boss Zhi Yu—"

The leader of the thugs, wearing fake designer loafers, shouted.

Damn it, how come I've never heard of this guy before? He's been in this business for three years, he should have seen a lot, but this guy is so good at fighting... no one has ever mentioned him? He even dares to mess with Boss Zhi Yu's men?

Bo Bing coldly lowered his eyes.

"What a pity, I'm still myself, even with three feet above my head."

The young man sighed coldly, as if he truly regretted something, and spat out highly toxic venom.

The gang leader suddenly met a pair of scarlet snake eyes, and the next second, his vision was filled with snowflakes, and his eardrums were ringing.